The Restaurant at the End of the Multiverse
by tinuvielb
Summary: Rose's date isn't turning out precisely as she'd planned...Daleks and Kaleds and Doctors, oh my! PostDoomsday, Rose Alt.Eight and...others! Now COMPLETE. Next week, watch for the sequel...Prometheus.
1. Table for Two

"Table for two, please. This is the Doctor." There was a pause. "Right. I'll see you in 2.2606 times ten to the 142nd galactic years." He hung up the TARDIS telephone and grinned at Rose, as if he had just done something terribly impressive.

Rose, however, was unimpressed. She was standing with her arms folded, her face registering obvious disbelief. "You're joking."

"I'm not joking. Why would I be joking? We have a reservation. Delightful little place, you'll love the--"

"It's a book, all right, a _book_. Mickey had it. It was one of his favourites."

"Ah yes, Douglas Adams…alas...marvelous sense of humour, tremendous talent, such a shame..."

"Besides," added Rose, "it's impossible. It's the end of the universe. Isn't everything falling into a giant fireball or something?"

"You mean the Big Crunch?" The Doctor enthusiastically pantomimed smashing something together between his hands. "No, that's not how it ends. There's no rewind button on the Big Bang. Dark energy makes the universe keep expanding, faster and faster. Eventually the stars all go out. Protons decay. Black holes evaporate and disappear. Nothing more can happen, and so time stops. The universe dies."

This dismal description gave Rose pause for a moment or two; but then she insisted, "You're not fooling me. You're kidding about the restaurant."

The Doctor smiled. "Mickey's book has the name wrong. It's the Restaurant at the End of the _Multiverse_."

(_The story thus far: Rose, stranded in a post-Doomsday parallel universe, has managed to find that universe's Doctor. He isn't the Doctor she knew: he is in his Eighth incarnation, and the Time War hasn't happened--yet? For further details of their meeting and first adventure together, read Doomsday Dimensions._)

Rose approached the TARDIS doors with some slight hesitation. It had been an odd trip. The Doctor had set the navigational controls with exceptional care, even shushing Rose at one point for interrupting him. Once en route, they seemed to travel much more slowly than usual, especially as they approached their destination; indeed, the materialisation phase had lasted at least half an hour instead of the usual few seconds. Some small part of her still believed the Doctor was playing an elaborate joke on her. But another part of her wondered, if he were serious, what indeed she might find here, at the end of all things. She opened the door half-way and peered outside.

She saw nothing but blackness.

"Watch your step," said the Doctor, coming up behind her.

"There's nothing to step _on_," Rose protested. "There's nothing out there. It's all--nothing."

The Doctor eased past her. He stepped into the blackness, then turned towards her, his face lit by the glow of the TARDIS. "It's all right. The floor is solid." He extended his hand and helped her down.

When the TARDIS doors swung shut behind them, Rose couldn't see at all. The Doctor took her elbow and guided her forward. Rose realised that she had to trust him, quite literally, blindly. At their first meeting, she had leapt into his arms without even looking to see who he was. Here she was--again--impossibly far from home with a man who was little more than a stranger to her. "This is really stupid," she muttered. "Someone's going to break their neck. Why does it have to be so dark?"

"Strictly speaking, it doesn't have to be dark at all," said the Doctor. "The Proprietor just likes to milk the whole end-of-the-universe motif. It is a bit over the top, don't you think?" Rose cracked a slight smile.

Presently, Rose's eyes adjusted to the gloom, and she was able to see that she was in a long corridor. The floor and walls were covered in some sort of black material that swallowed light and muffled sound. The ceiling glowed a faint purplish-blue. The corridor opened into a larger antechamber, one wall of which was entirely covered in photographs. Curious, she approached them to get a closer look.

Each photo featured a middle-aged man in a white dinner jacket. His jet-black hair was slicked back and he had an enormous, brilliantly white smile. He was standing next to a variety of other people and aliens. Many of the photographs appeared to be signed. Scanning the pictures, she recognised one of the man's companions as the Face of Boe. In another picture, she saw the man standing next to a flat creature that resembled a trampoline. "_Cassandra_?" she wondered. A man dressed in a spangled, bell-bottomed leather jumpsuit caught her eye. His dark hair was arranged in a pompadour, and he wore sunglasses. He was surrounded by waist-high green creatures which had three fingers and a single bulbous eye in the middle of their foreheads. She peered at the signature, trying to make it out.

"I really ought to take that one down," said a voice behind her. "I ask you, who goes to a quality restaurant and orders fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches? Terrible tippers, took weeks to clean up the mess." Rose turned around. The man in the white dinner jacket was grinning at her. His teeth seemed to glow. Then he caught sight of the Doctor. "Aaaaay, Doctor, good to see you, it's been too long!" He grabbed the Doctor and pulled him into a hug, kissing him on both cheeks.

"Rose," said the Doctor, disentangling himself, "this is the Proprietor."

"Rose?" said the Proprietor, taking her hand. "Would you be Rose _Tyler_, by any chance?"

"Er...yes," said Rose, a little confused.

"I have a message for you." With a flourish, the Proprietor handed her a folded sheet of paper.

"Who would be sending me a message? Who'd send me a message _here_?"

The Doctor smiled smugly. "I am brilliant, truly brilliant," he said. "The magnitude of my genius is simply astonishing."

Immediately Rose became convinced that he was playing a trick on her. "What did you do?" she asked. "What's the joke? Come on, out with it."

"No joke," he said, now grinning widely. "Read your message."

"Is every Doctor in every universe this irritating?" Rose flipped the note open and read it. Greatly confused, she glanced up at the Doctor for a moment. She read it again.

"Did you send this?" she asked the Doctor, finally.

"No, I didn't send it. Not me. Not _this_ Doctor." He was still smiling, but his blue eyes were boring into her, as if willing her to understand.

In a flash of insight and absolute joy, she understood.

The message read:

_Dear Rose, _

_Congratulations on finding the restaurant! It's on a node, so I shouldn't have too much difficulty getting there. I've a fair idea who you're with, so I feel it my duty to warn you: he's a tedious bore. Hope you don't mind if I crash your date._

_The Doctor_


	2. The Doctor's Genius

Chapter 2: The Doctor's Genius

"When do you think he'll get here?" asked Rose—again.

"I don't know," said the Doctor. "Soon, I expect. However, time travel can be tricky at the extremes. This is about as far as a TARDIS can go. I recommend patience."

The Doctor and Rose were seated in a private dining room. A floor-to-ceiling window displayed the black emptiness of space outside. A single candle on the table was the only source of light. She was holding a folder titled "Humanoid Menu," but wasn't looking at it. A bottle of red wine--an Amarone--was open on the table.

"How did you know he'd try to reach me here?" asked Rose.

"I told you already—because I'm brilliant. Smashingly intelligent, marvelously insightful--"

"Ooooh!" said Rose, slapping at him with her menu. "I swear, one day I really am going to--"

"Can you not show me a little gratitude?" The Doctor leaned back in his chair, gazing at her with a very self-satisfied expression.

"Can _you_ not tell me how you knew?"

"Oh, very well," said the Doctor. "If I were looking for someone in a parallel universe, but had no way of getting across, I'd look for a node."

"What's a...node?"

"Imagine plucking a harp string. The string vibrates; as it swings back and forth, it takes many paths through the air, perhaps an infinite number of paths. But each end of the string remains fixed. The fixed ends are nodes. If you touch the string in the center, it will make a sound an octave higher, and you will have created another node. The Multiverse is like this: many paths, with fixed nodes at the beginning and the end, and possible nodes at other points along the way."

"So," said Rose slowly. "All parallel universes started together at the very beginning..."

"The Big Bang, yes," said the Doctor, nodding.

"And they all come together again at the very end."

"Yes, exactly. The Restaurant is perfectly situated at a node, and an obvious place to meet. I thought: that's where I'd send a message, so perhaps he would as well. And, as usual, I was right. Now, Rose Tyler, I have a question for _you_. Are you ready to order? I'm starving!"

Rose picked up her menu again. Her eyes scanned it a few times, but she couldn't concentrate. "When do you think he'll get here?" She turned away and looked expectantly at the door, for what was perhaps the fiftieth time.

"If you cannot make up your mind, I shall order for you," he said, with some slight irritation.

"Maybe you'd better," said Rose, putting down the menu. "It's just…I can't think about anything…I can't wait to see him. Has he changed? I wonder how long it's been for him? Has it been too long? I hope it hasn't been too long. He's got to remember me; he can't forget me, can he?"

The Doctor didn't answer her; or perhaps he did. Rose couldn't hear anything but her own anxious inner monologue. Presently, however, a noise did penetrate her consciousness. It was a mechanical noise, a familiar noise, a noise that filled her with dread. It grew louder and louder. She glanced up. She froze.

Into the room came a creature. Its colouring was unfamiliar--a shining, opalescent white that seemed to glow from within. But it was, unmistakably, a Dalek.


	3. Kroll Calamari

Chapter 3: Kroll Calamari.

The white Dalek glided up to the table and peered at Rose and the Doctor through its eye stalk.

"GOOD E-VENING. ARE YOU RE-ADY TO OR-DER? OR DO YOU NEED MORE TIME TO DE-LI-BER-ATE?" Despite its odd appearance, the Dalek's quivering, metallic voice was certainly the same.

"We're ready," said the Doctor, flipping his menu closed. "I'll have the Kroll calamari fritti to start, cesare per due, linguine alla vongole for my friend, and I'll have the saltimbocca alla Romana. Oh, and another bottle of this Amarone, it really is marvelous."

"I O-BEY." The white Dalek glided off.

Rose watched this exchange, speechless. When she could finally talk again, she sputtered, "That…that…that was a Dalek! A…Dalek took our order!"

"No," said the Doctor, casually swirling his wine, "that is a person in a Kaled transporter."

"What? No, don't tell me--in the far future Daleks give up on dominating the universe, and instead decide to pursue careers in hospitality management?"

The Doctor burst out laughing. "What are you on about? Kaleds are healers and pacifists--and marvelously clever engineers. Why, in the dying days of the universe, when the stars had started going out, they were able to harness dark energy to rescue dying civilisations—but you know, come to think of it, I'm not quite sure why there's one waiting tables here, but..."

"Where I'm from, they're called Daleks and they're murderers."

"Daleks," repeated the Doctor, the word finally registering. "That name...it shouldn't even exist anymore, not even as a memory..." He glanced down, his brow furrowed.

"The Daleks killed the Time Lords."

He looked up suddenly, eyes wide. "What did you say?"

"It was the Daleks who killed the Time Lords. In the Time War."

His face turned ashen. "Daleks," he whispered. "How could the _Daleks_..." He trailed off, visibly shaken.

"So...there aren't there any Daleks in your universe?" asked Rose. "If there's some way of getting rid of them, I'd like to know what it is."

He swallowed hard. "The reason Daleks don't exist in my universe is because--"

They were interrupted by the return of the white Kaled, bearing the appetisers.

"GOOD CHOICE ON THE CA-LA-MA-RI, DOC-TOR. IT'S REAL-LY GREAT."

"Ah, Kroll calamari, the very best. Ever been to the third moon of Delta Magna? No reason why you should; it's terribly damp and swampy. Legend tells of a gigantic squid—"

Rose rolled her eyes. "Why do I think you're about to tell me you met that gigantic squid?"

"Well...yes. I might have done. Gave me a spot of trouble here and there, but nothing worth remarking on, really--"

"Doctor," said Rose. "I don't want to hear a squid story. Tell me about the Daleks."

"Er...right," said the Doctor. His fingers twitched and fumbled for his pocket watch; he wound the chain around and around a finger. "Look, Rose...it's something that happened a very long time ago, and I really don't think it's worth rehashing--"

'What?" Rose exclaimed. "I'm going back there tonight, back to a universe that might be crawling with Daleks, and you don't want to tell me how to stop them?"

"It's nothing you could do!" said the Doctor, sharply. "You or--_your_ Doctor."

"Why not?"

"Because it involves going back and altering the timeline, probably even crossing timelines. Without Time Lords to guard the Void, you know what can happen."

"Reapers," said Rose, grimly.

"Anyway--we were talking about Kroll," said the Doctor, brightly, clearly attempting to change the subject. "That takes me back--say, did I ever tell you about that business with the Key to Time?" For the rest of the meal, he prattled on about androids and living rocks and pirates with murderous metal parrots.

After dinner, they stood at the window, staring into the featureless, starless blackness of space.

"So it all ends like this...just nothing. I don't know why…it makes me sad. I never thought the universe could just die."

"Everything dies, Rose. But I don't see that as necessarily a bad thing. Death is an excellent reason to embrace life. People always seem to want things to stay the same; consequently they spend too much of their lives in the past. But death is our reminder that life keeps moving. The key to life is, quite simply, to live it."

The Proprietor entered. He whispered in the Doctor's ear, then departed.

"Your friend--my dimensional doppleganger--just sent word that he'll be here in a few minutes. That's my exit cue, I think."

"Why don't you stay?" asked Rose. "Have a drink with us."

"Oh no," he said. "Things can get a bit tricky at these universal nodes, so...let's just say this would not be the best place to meet...er...myself. But, come to think of it--perhaps I'll write him a note."

He felt in his pockets and discovered a small stub of pencil. "No paper--say, could I jot something down on the note he sent you?"

She handed him the note, and he wrote a brief addendum. After folding it, he handed it to her with a wink. "Doctor's eyes only, Rose."

She laughed and put it in her pocket; then she hugged him. "Good-bye, Doctor. Thank you. I know it's only been a few days, but...I'm really glad I met you."

Still holding her in his arms, he said, "Rose, I am quite certain that, at some point, your Doctor was given the opportunity to stop the Daleks and save his people. I don't know your Doctor; but I know what would happen to me if a failure of mine caused so great a catastrophe. His mind is broken—it must be. You have no obligation to go with him, if you're having second thoughts. I can take you back—"

"No, you're wrong," said Rose, feeling a sudden surge of anger—how dare he say such things about _her_ Doctor! She pulled away, out of the embrace. "He's not broken. There's nothing wrong with him, he's perfect." She turned from him and faced the window.

He laid a hand, gently, on her shoulder. "There is the possibility that he may become mentally unstable. This can happen to Time Lords, especially in their later regenerations. If this happens, I won't be able to help you—"

"I don't need your help anymore, thanks," said Rose, coldly. "You can go now."

He lifted his fingers from her shoulder, and drew his hand away. "Good-bye Rose."

She didn't reply. A moment later, when she glanced back, he was gone.

Some time later, she became aware of a vibration in the floor, even though she couldn't hear any footsteps on the soft carpet. It got stronger; and then stopped just behind her. Her Doctor was here. He had come back for her. They would be together again, forever, just as she had promised him.

"Hello! I'm the Doctor."

She grinned. He was being silly. "Of course you're the Doctor," she said as she spun around.

A tall man with a profusion of brown curls and impossibly wide eyes was staring down at her. Wound about his neck was a striped scarf that was easily twenty feet long. "So sorry to trouble you," he said, with an enormously toothy smile. "But have you seen Sarah Jane?"


	4. The Wrong Doctor

Chapter 4: "The Wrong Doctor"

Rose couldn't reply. All she could manage was open-mouthed gaping, punctuated by a few high-pitched gasps.

"No? I suppose I'll have to go and look for her—are you all right?" He slapped her several times on the back. "It's never a good sign when you go to a restaurant and someone is choking. I don't like this restaurant, anyway. Overpriced food, rubbish view. Don't you think the view is rubbish? It's supposed to make you contemplate the fragility of existence, but I think it's terribly depressing. Give me a nice sunset, maybe some mountains--"

"You're the wrong Doctor!" she shrieked.

"Not all the time." He grinned, wide and slightly frightening. "On the rare occasion, I'm right." He pulled a white paper bag from his jacket. "Jelly baby? You can't get them on the menu so I have to bring my own—"

"I was supposed to meet someone here! He sent me a note!"

"And so you _have_ met someone here. Hello!" He pumped her unresisting hand up and down. "Let's see that note, then, shall we?"

Rose was, by this time, too disorientated to protest. She handed him the note. He unfolded it and read it several times.

_Dear Rose, _

_Congratulations on finding the restaurant! It's on a node, so I shouldn't have too much difficulty getting there. I've a fair idea who you're with, so I feel it my duty to warn you: he's a tedious bore. Hope you don't mind if I crash your date._

_The Doctor_

_Dear Doctor,_

_Enclosed please find your lost item. Try not to mislay her again. If Miss Tyler tires of your company (which, given what little I know about you, seems highly likely!) bring her back here, and I shall conduct her home. _

_The Doctor_

"So," said the Doctor, "you must be Rose Tyler. You met one Doctor, then met a second Doctor. The second Doctor was to deliver you back to the first Doctor, but instead you met me, another Doctor. A Doctor would only discuss a node in relation to parallel universes. Therefore you know two Doctors, each in a separate parallel universe. Right?"

"Er..." said Rose.

"But what troubles me, what _really_ troubles me is this, Rose: I shouldn't be able to read this note. What's more, I shouldn't be able to write on it, either."

He ferreted in his pockets, and after removing his sonic screwdriver, a yo-yo, several bags of jelly babies, and an odd contraption she couldn't immediately identify, he finally came up with a pencil. He scribbled a note, then held the paper up to her. "You see?"

She didn't have time to read the notes, but could clearly see three separate ones—all in the same handwriting. He folded the note again, and handed it to her. "Hang onto this, will you?"

Rose reached for the note and put it in her pocket; then suddenly she felt an odd lurching sensation in the pit of her stomach. It was hard to appreciate in the dim light, but for an instant, everything seemed to go double.

"Did you feel that, or was it just me?" said Rose, queasily.

"I don't know about you, but it's definitely me!" The Doctor's voice had changed. Rose turned and looked at him. The tall man with the curls and the long scarf had disappeared. In his place was a much younger man, fair-haired, who appeared to be dressed in cricketing gear. Inexplicably, there was a piece of celery pinned to his lapel.

Rose gaped at him, again speechless; but she recovered more quickly this time. "Who are you?"

His smile was open and warm, and lit up his boyish face. "I'm the Doctor. Er...have you seen Adric?"


	5. Cheeky Kaleds

"N-no, I haven't," Rose stammered.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and sighed, noisily. "I suppose I'll have to go and look for him--"

"How can you be the Doctor, too?"

"Too?" He turned abruptly to look at her, his fair hair flying. "You've met me before? Other versions of me?"

"Yes, two—I mean three—I mean—well, several of you! I was just talking to--"

Suddenly he leaped forwards and put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her down behind the table. Seconds later, a white Kaled glided into the room. "IS THERE A-NY-THING ELSE YOU RE-QUIRE? IF SO, I CAN WAIT."

Rose wriggled out of the Doctor's grasp, and stood up. She smoothed down her hair, which had become a bit disheveled when the Doctor pushed her down. "Um...no. No, thank you. We don't need anything else, we're both just...just fine."

The Kaled swung its eyestalk around and stared at her for a moment; then it dipped down, apparently to look at the Doctor's legs--his striped trousers were extremely visible sticking out from behind the table. Then the eyestalk came up again, and stared at her some more. She couldn't be sure, but she had the idea it was trying to work out what she had been doing on the floor with the Doctor. She said, sharply, "Like I said, we don't need anything else. You can go now."

It stared a moment longer, then said, "I O-BEY." It trundled off.

"What was THAT?" asked the Doctor as he scrambled to his feet. "Some kind of—tame Dalek?"

"Oh, so they have Daleks where you come from?" asked Rose.

"You could say that! And they're not nearly so well-mannered."

"I thought that one was a bit cheeky, myself," Rose said, scowling after it. "Anyway, that's a Kaled. From a universe where there aren't any Daleks, or so I'm told."

Obviously startled, the Doctor turned to her. "That shouldn't happen!"

"You keep saying that," said Rose. "I mean--that's what the previous you said as well."

"He saw the...Kaled too?"

"No, he was talking about being able to read a letter."

"What letter?"

She handed it to him. He scanned the first two messages. "Right. Two Doctors, parallel universes, got it."

He read the third message aloud:

_Dear Doctor,_

_Given that you can read this, and I can write it, the only possible conclusion is that the massively parallel nodal architecture is unstable._

_The Doctor_

"What does he mean--massively parallel nodal..." asked Rose.

"Well," said the Doctor, curling the note up and rapping it against his palm. "It's what makes this restaurant a real marvel of engineering. It keeps a massive number of parallel universes totally separate from one another."

"Wait," said Rose, now very confused. "I thought this place was a node, where all parallel universes collapse together."

"Right you are! This area of space-time is a node. But the restaurant, Rose, the restaurant itself is _not_. Barriers between universes are artificially maintained. It keeps you from running into different versions of yourself, and allows the Proprietor to keep undesirables from one universe out, but their desirable counterparts from another universe in."

"So..." said Rose, finally understanding. "Kaleds can get in, but Daleks can't."

"That's the theory."

"But wait—I came here from one universe, and a Doctor from _another_ universe was supposed to meet me. How could that even be possible, if the universes are kept separate?"

"I think you've hit upon the problem. The Proprietor must have tried to arrange things so you could meet—lowered the barriers for you."

"But something's gone wrong," said Rose.

"Unfortunately, I'm inclined to agree." The Doctor frowned. "I think its time to find the Proprietor."

They felt their way into the dimly-lit entrance hall, and became aware of the sound of shouting. It proved to be the voice of the Proprietor energetically scolding a cluster of Kaleds. "Whatsa matter with you? You stupid or something? How many times do I have to tell you? You can't go into the public areas except in universe Zed Zed Theta." The Kaleds didn't answer; their eye stalks drooped down, pointing at the floor. "That lady had a fit, and I'm going to have to comp her entire party's meal! If I catch one of you guys running around again, I'm gonna--" He shook his fist; then became aware that the Doctor and Rose were staring at him.

The Proprietor's demeanour immediately changed. In an oily voice he said, "Good evening Doctor, Miss Tyler. I trust your dinner was satisfactory? Is there anything else we can do for you?"

"Yes, bit of a problem, actually," said the Doctor, tossing his hair out of his eyes. "You've got barrier problems. I understand you must have taken them down so Rose could meet her friend--"

"No," said the Proprietor, "I haven't done anything to the barriers. They're all still up. He hasn't arrived yet." He nodded to Rose and added in a syrupy voice, "But we expect him any minute." Rose forced a smile in return.

"In that case, you've _really_ got problems. The barriers are coming down anyway," said the Doctor. "I shouldn't even be here."

Amid noises of protestation and disbelief, the Proprietor produced a small, blue probe from his desk and touched it to the Doctor's finger; a moment later, he flipped the probe on its side, apparently looking at some sort of reading. He gasped; then clapped his hand to his forehead and exclaimed, "Oh! I apologise, I am so sorry, Doctor, I swear I don't know how this happened. Yes, you're in the wrong universe division."

"That's all right," said the Doctor. "The important thing is to find the reason for the malfunction."

"It's the temporal stabiliser," the Proprietor said, dramatically wringing his hands. "I just had it calibrated the other day, and it's been nothing but trouble ever since."

"Let's go take a look at it." The Doctor turned to Rose. "I think you're sorted, and I still need to go and find Adric. Just stay here and wait for the...er...person you're waiting for." He started to go, then realised he was still holding the note Rose had given him. "Hmm," he muttered. "Maybe useful, maybe not." He pulled a pen from his pocket and hastily jotted an addendum. Then he folded the note and handed it to Rose. "Bye. I'm sure I'll see you again--one way or another!" He grinned and waved to her, as he bounded off down the corridor, the Proprietor following. Soon they had disappeared into the gloom.

The Kaleds glided off. One of them turned to look at her; she thought it was the same one who had given her the eye...stalk. She suppressed the urge to make a rude gesture. Finally it left; and she was alone.

Seconds passed, then minutes. She couldn't be sure how long she had been waiting, but it seemed like a very long time. Presently, she became aware of movement in the corridor. She strained to see. It was a man...with curly hair...and a velvet jacket. It was him, the Doctor from her parallel universe, the one who had brought her to the restaurant. He hadn't left yet, he was still here. She felt a sudden pang of remorse. She had behaved horribly to him when they parted. She would apologise. She called, tentatively, "Doctor? Is that you? It's me, Rose. I'm so glad you're still here, I just wanted to say--"

He came into view: he was an older man with grey curls, and walked with a sort of swagger. In addition to the velvet jacket, he wore a shirt with frills at the collar and sleeves; and draped across his shoulders was, of all things, a cape. He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling. "Hello...Rose, is it? Yes, I am the Doctor. A pleasure to meet you." He took her hand; his manner was almost flirtatious. "Perhaps you can help me. I'm looking for a friend of mine--have you seen Jo?"


	6. The Velvet Rogue

At this point, Rose was no longer shocked; just extremely frustrated. "How many of you are there?" To her great embarrassment, she burst into tears.

"Steady on, steady on," said the Doctor, soothingly, patting her on the shoulder with a leather-gloved hand. "Let's start at the beginning. Tell me everything."

Rose looked up at him. There was a gentleness in his eyes that she was beginning to be able to recognise, even across all the incarnations. It calmed her and made her feel safe. She took a deep breath and started to explain; then pulled the note from her pocket. "Just read this. The other Doctors made sense of it."

"Other Doctors?" he murmured, flattening out the note.

The last message read:

_Dear Doctor,_

_The Proprietor thinks it's a problem with the temporal stabiliser, but I have my doubts. Rogue universe?_

_The Doctor_

"Rogue universe!" exclaimed the Doctor. "Good grief! This could be very bad."

"What's a...rogue universe?" said Rose.

"It's just a theory, you understand; but, putting it simply, it's a universe capable of destabilising an entire node. In this case, it would be a universe that had something catastrophic happen to its Timeline, that forced it to die in a way completely distinct from how all the other universes died."

Rose had difficulty wrapping her head around this one. "So the rogue is...a universe where something terrible happened to Time? Like...say...a Time War?"

"Yes, theoretically," said the Doctor. "However, even then, the Time Lords would simply reset the Time vortex and--"

"My universe must be the rogue. There was a Time War and all the Time Lords died."

The Doctor stared at her in shocked amazement. The note slipped from his fingers. A moment later, his jaw tightened and he said, "That is a possibility. But it doesn't explain why we're seeing these intermittent episodes of instability right now...something must have triggered it, something in the restaurant."

Rose suddenly felt very cold. "Or something trying to get to the restaurant? Like a... TARDIS from the rogue universe?"

"A TARDIS belonging to your friend--the Doctor who has arranged to meet you? Yes, I'm afraid that is a distinct possibility. He's probably having difficulty materialising; and every time he tries, it triggers another local failure here on the restaurant. We've got to stop him. Perhaps if we reverse the polarity--"

"Stop him?" cried Rose. "No, you can't stop him, he's got to get here--"

"Rose, it may be our only--get down!" He pushed her behind the desk, then crouched down beside her. She peered out from the side, and saw what appeared to be a white Kaled approaching.

She rolled her eyes. "It's nothing to worry about, Doctor," she said, sighing. "It's only a Kaled." She stood up and waved at it. "Hi there, thanks, we don't need anything."

"IN-FER-I-OR LIFE FORM DE-TEC-TED. EX-TER-MI-NATE! EX-TER-MI-NATE! EX-TER-MI-NATE!"

Rose stared, open-mouthed at the Dalek. It was a dull white, trimmed in gold. The Doctor managed to pull her down behind the desk again, just as it fired.

There was a blast of sound, like stone and metal shuddering; everything seemed to vanish, reappear, and diverge. Rose covered her head with her hands. Was this really how it was going to end for her? Killed by a Dalek at the end of the universe?

Everything went black.


	7. Dark Energy

A dull sound, which became progressively more insistent and shrill, intruded on her consciousness. It was some sort of an alarm. She opened her eyes, blinking against the dazzling light. "Doctor?" she called.

"I'm here, child."

A face came into view. It wasn't the man with the curls and frills. This man was much older. He had shoulder-length white hair and wore an odd sort of black hat. Rose squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again. He was in Edwardian dress: a black frock coat and check trousers.

"The Dalek?" she whispered hoarsely.

"No Daleks here."

Rose shook her head, and sat up, painfully. She looked around. It became abundantly clear to her why the Proprietor kept the lights so dim; under the harsh emergency lights, it was obvious that the black fabric covering the walls was worn and dusty; and the black carpet faded and stained. "What happened?"

"That's what I was going to ask you," said the Doctor, eyeing her suspiciously.

She fumbled in her pocket for the note; it wasn't there. She thought back; and realised the last Doctor had dropped it. She rose to her feet, wobbling slightly. She scanned the corridor--there it was, at the far end. "Over there," she gestured. "Your...er...counterparts have been writing in it. You'll be able to work it out."

The Doctor gazed at her skeptically, then moved to retrieve the note. He stared at it for a moment, then crumpled it up. "A funny sort of game you're playing, hmm?" he snarled. "This is blank."

"Blank?" said Rose. "Give it here." Scowling, he tossed it to her. She caught it, and opened it up. She glanced at it, then flipped it around, holding it up for him to see. "It's not blank at all, look."

He strode towards her quickly, and snatched the paper from her hands. "How very odd," he said, reading it. "How very odd indeed. Rogue universe?"

"It's mine, my universe" said Rose. "Where I'm from. The Time Lords were killed, there's only one left--"

"Bah," said the Doctor. "I don't believe that's it. The universe existed very well before the Time Lords, I doubt it will miss them when they're gone. What did the Time Lords ever do for anybody?"

Rose was too astonished to reply.

"But I do think," he said, glancing from the note to Rose and back again, "it is quite possible _you_ are the problem. Give me your hand."

"How can it be me?" she protested, as he grabbed one of her fingers. The Doctor took the probe off the Proprietor's desk and pressed it against her skin.

"Aha, just as I expected. You've got two matter signatures, verifying that you've spent time on two separate parallel universes. Mostly Zed Zed Alpha, where you're from originally, I take it; and also Zed Zed Theta. Tell me," he said, releasing her hand. "What's unusual about Zed Zed Theta?"

" Zed Zed Theta," said Rose. "Where—there still are Time Lords?"

"Yes, you silly girl. The other universe you have visited. What is unique, what is unusual about it?"

"Erm..." Rose tried to think. "Cybermen?"

"No, every humanoid race manages to dream up Cybermen at some point, as far as I'm aware. Think, child!"

She massaged her temples. There was something--what was it?

"Daleks!"

"Fool," he snapped. "Daleks are everywhere--"

"No!" she cried. "There aren't any Daleks in... Zed Zed Theta. They're Kaleds."

"Kaleds," said the Doctor, leaning forward. "Tell me everything you know about Kaleds."

"Well, they work at the restaurant--"

"Do they, now? What else?"

"And...and...they're very peaceful...erm..." What had the Doctor told her at dinner? What had he said? She swallowed. "They are...engineers...good engineers...they preserved dying races when the stars went out."

"How the devil did they do that?" cried the Doctor.

"I don't know," said Rose, now feeling very agitated. "I don't know! No--wait. Something about dark energy. Yes, that's it, they harnessed dark energy."

His eyes widened. He stared at her for a moment without speaking. Then, softly, he said, "Child, do you know what happens if you 'harness' dark energy?"

She shook her head no.

"You get more dark energy. The more you use, the more you create. Ingenious, isn't it?"

She found his tone quite disturbing. She nodded slightly.

"NO!" He gripped her shoulders hard and shook her. "Because the more dark energy there is, the faster and faster and faster the galaxies, stars, and planets fly apart from one another, and then...do you know what happens?"

She stared at him transfixed, unable to move or speak. He slowly released his hands from her shoulders and held up the note. He tore it in half. "The Big Rip."

"W-what's that?" she stammered.

"I don't have time to explain," he said, suddenly, flinging the torn pieces of paper at her. "I've got to get out of here. Because of your dual matter signature, you are the prime source of instability, you are breaking down the barriers, and if you stay, you will destroy this place."

"How do I leave? Y-you've got to help me!"

"Oh, it's very easy. Fling yourself out the nearest air lock. Your life is so short, human, what does it matter if it ends now or a few years hence?" And with that parting epithet, he hurried down the corridor and out of sight.


	8. Broken Mind

Thunderstruck, she watched him go. She couldn't believe it. Almost in a trance, she reached down and picked up the torn pieces of paper and put them in her pocket. Then she stood there for a moment, waiting for him to return, waiting for him to come back and say it had all been a joke. When he didn't, she began to realise how much she had taken it for granted—that no matter what happened, no matter what the circumstance, the Doctor would always help her, if he possibly could. She began also to realise that she took a lot of people for granted: her mother, Pete, and Mickey. Especially Mickey. She felt her face turn hot with shame.

Her thoughts turned again to the Doctor--that bitter, old Doctor who had abandoned her to her fate. She decided this must be one of his last regenerations. What had made him like this? What had caused so profound, so awful a change? Was it a lifetime of helping people and facing their ingratitude? The accumulated trauma of death, pain, and loss? Or was it just the long, long years of loneliness? The tragedy of it was overwhelming. Rose was alone, utterly alone in this place at the end of the universe; and she fully expected to die there. She wept; not for herself, but for the Doctor--for what he would become.

"Rose?"

She looked up. Standing before her was a man in a green velvet frock coat with a halo of long ringlets and the kindest, bluest eyes she'd ever seen. "Doctor!" she cried, and flung her arms about him. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean what I said, I was horrible to you, please forgive me!"

"Wait, wait, shh," he said. "It's all right, really." He caught hold of her chin and tipped her face up to his. "Don't be silly. Do you really think that's the first time my interfering has got people angry at me?"

She laughed and sobbed in reply. "I'm so glad you're here--I thought you left ages ago."

"Er...well..." he said. Rose thought she detected a sheepish expression.

"So...what's been keeping you?" she asked.

"I..er...I couldn't find my TARDIS. I forgot where I--well, with the chameleon circuit fixed, it was impossible to find in the dark!"

Rose couldn't help herself. She was doubled over in laughter. It was so funny--and so incredibly lucky!

The Doctor shot her a reproachful glance and continued, "Now that the lights are on, I might have a better chance...well, never mind about that, what about you? Why are you still here?"

Rose handed him the torn note and managed to pull herself together enough to describe the events of the evening. "What does it mean, the 'Big Rip'?"

He didn't reply. Instead, he found his pencil stub and started doing calculations on the back of the note. "That can't be right," he muttered several times, scratching out his work and starting again. Finally, he threw his pencil down and covered his face with his hands, "This is horrible. How could I have been so blind?"

Rose picked up the paper. She couldn't make sense of the calculations, but she tried to read the final number. "One thousand twelve?"

"No, ten to the twelfth power years. A million million galactic years."

"What does it mean?"

"My universe should have spent trillions upon trillions upon trillions of years—10 to the 142nd power galactic years, to be exact—slowly aging and cooling off, same as the rest. Instead, because of the excess dark energy created by the Kaleds, time and space will be catastrophically ripped apart in a mere million million years. Galaxies, stars, planets, people, everything annihilated. That is the 'Big Rip.'"

"A million million years...that still seems like a long time," said Rose.

"No—it isn't," he said, grimly. "It's as if the entire existence of the Earth—10 billion years—were reduced to a single second. No—that doesn't even _begin_ to capture the enormity of what has happened. I saved the Time Lords but destroyed the universe."

"You?" Rose stared at him in disbelief.

He gazed past her, unseeing, his face aghast. "The Time Lords set me the task of altering the Daleks' development or destroying them. I chose the latter. Because of me, Daleks don't exist and Kaleds do. But at what cost?" He squeezed his eyes shut. "What terrible, terrible cost?"

There was a sudden, metallic groaning noise. The lights flickered and the floor seemed to ripple. Rose seized the Doctor's arm, "Don't change!"

The Doctor hardly seemed to notice that anything had happened; although he did look at her in confusion and say, "What do you mean, 'don't change'?"

"I meant—never mind. Look," said Rose. "We've got to get out of here. The...other Doctor said that I was causing the problems here and I have to get off the restaurant."

The Doctor nodded absently, but didn't move. Rose pointed down the corridor. "I think you parked the TARDIS this way." He didn't answer her. She studied his face for a moment, trying to read his inscrutable expression. "Doctor? What is it?"

And then she remembered what the Doctor—this Doctor—had said to her at dinner: "_I don't know your Doctor; but I know what would happen to me if a failure of mine caused so great a catastrophe. His mind is broken—it must be_."

She knew what she had to do. "Just—just wait here one second."

Rose went to the Proprietor's desk and found the pencil. On the last space of paper left, she wrote a quick note. She pressed the paper to her lips; and then put it down on the desk. She went back and took the Doctor's arm. "Come on, we've got to go," she said, coaxing him down the corridor.

Halfway down, they heard the sound of an argument in an adjoining corridor, just out of sight. Rose recognised the Proprietor's voice. "Didn't I tell you idiots to stay OUT of the public areas? It's the kitchens for you, indefinitely—"

Rose suddenly had a terrible feeling about this. "No!" she yelled. "Proprietor, get out of there!"

"WE DO NOT AC-CEPT OR-DERS FROM IN-FER-I-OR RA-CES! RE-SIS-TANCE IS USE-LESS! EX-TER-MIN-ATE! EX-TER-MIN-ATE! EX-TER-MIN-ATE!"

There was a flash of light and screaming. Rose started to run away, but realised the Doctor wasn't following her. He was looking to-and-fro, wild-eyed; and he was murmuring to himself. "I didn't...I didn't have the right..." Then, to her horror, he began to stagger towards the Daleks.

"No, Doctor!" she whispered urgently, but he didn't hear her. She grabbed his hand. "Don't go that way, you'll be killed!" Still he didn't respond. "Doctor," she pleaded, "_help me_."

For a split second he hesitated; then he turned and looked at her. His eyes had cleared; they glittered like polished steel. "What are you waiting for?" he said, crisply. "Run!" Hand-in-hand they sprinted away.

Several turns later, they were in a large room that Rose didn't recognise immediately. However, from the layout, she supposed it must be some sort of hangar for TARDISes and other timecraft. In what she knew was really a vain hope, she began searching it for any sign that her Doctor had arrived. But his blue police box was nowhere in sight.

"Over here." The Doctor pointed to a faint shimmer in the air. He turned the key in the lock and stepped inside.

"Good, you found it," said Rose. She moved to follow him inside, then hesitated.

The Doctor stood in the doorway of the TARDIS. "Rose, the instability is worsening. We don't have a lot of time. And I've got to wall off my universe before the Rip effects start to propagate and destroy other universes." He extended his arm towards her.

"I know," she said. Still standing in front of the TARDIS, she stared into the open hangar, hoping against hope that she could somehow will the blue box to appear. "I just want to..."

She was interrupted by the metallic groaning sound, even louder and more insistent than before. The floor rippled and the walls began to bend. Suddenly they snapped and collapsed inward. Everything exploded. Just as the destruction was about to swallow her, Rose turned and jumped, into the Doctor's arms. He swung her into the TARDIS and slammed the door shut.

The Doctor flung himself at the control panel. He punched a button—Rose recognised it as the "fast return" button—but nothing happened. The Doctor started to hit the console with his fist; but apparently he thought better of this, and instead placed his hands on the central shaft. "Come on, old girl, come on, you can do it," he pleaded. "Get us out of here!"

The TARDIS shuddered to life and dematerialised.


	9. Table for One

The Doctor, in a state of deepest concentration, spent the next several hours making calculations and setting his instruments accordingly. Rose sat quietly curled up on a sofa in the adjacent sitting room, not wanting to disturb him. She didn't know precisely what he was doing; but she suspected this was the "walling-off" process of separating his universe from the others, containing the "rip effects," whatever they were. With every flip of a switch, she knew she was going farther from her Doctor, her first Doctor—well, technically, her second Doctor. How many Doctors had she met so far? She counted them up—seven. Seven Doctors, all so different. And yet, all so similar, all but one.

"Well, that's it for now. I think I've contained the worst of it. Should hold until I can do a proper job." The Doctor collapsed next to her onto the sofa.

"Good, that's good," said Rose, soothingly.

"It's the least I can do—not destroy other universes the way I've wrecked my own..." He looked at Rose for a moment, then touched a finger to her cheek. Rose realised she had been crying. "Oh, Rose," he said, quietly. "We didn't even find your Doctor."

"That's not why I'm sad, not entirely," said Rose, brushing away the rest of her tears. "It's just that I..." She trailed off. What was she going to tell him? That the trauma of some great catastrophe--perhaps _this_ great catastrophe--combined with endless years of loneliness would break him? That he would wither into an angry, bitter old man--a man who seemed to have turned his back on everything the Doctor ever stood for? No, that would be too cruel. Besides, it didn't necessarily have to happen, did it? It wouldn't happen, not to this Doctor, not if she could help it.

Rose moved closer to the Doctor, and put her head on his shoulder. "I made up my mind to stay with you. That's what I wrote in the note. I just wanted to tell him goodbye properly, that's all."

"I...I don't understand."

"You were right about him—my Doctor. When I met him, he _was_ broken. I think it was because he went through something horrible, and he had to do it all on his own. I think you've been through something like that tonight. I don't want you to break. I don't want you to be alone."

Meanwhile, back on the restaurant, a blue police box slowly materialised in the now-quiet, intact, and again very dark timeship hangar. The door opened. A man stepped outside. He was tall and thin, with angular features and a mop of unruly dark hair. With hands that trembled slightly, he buttoned the jacket of his rumpled pin-striped suit, and straightened his tie. He took a deep breath and blew it out through his lips. "Right. Here we go," he said to himself, as he left the hangar.

The Doctor approached the entrance hall tentatively, his wide eyes darting about, as if he were searching for something in the gloom. The Proprietor glanced up from his desk. "Aaaaaay, Doctor!" He strode forwards and pulled the Doctor into a hug, and kissed him on both cheeks. "Good to see you again. Before I forget, I have a message for you." He held up a note, torn in two, every inch covered in writing.

Somewhat surprised, the Doctor took the note, and turned it over several times. Then he put the pieces together, reading it from the very beginning. He chuckled at the first reply to his original message; but read the subsequent messages with increasing dismay. He puzzled over the calculations; then paled when he comprehended their meaning. He was about to put the note aside, when he caught sight of a little message scrawled in the margin, in handwriting different from all the rest. He read it through several times. Then he slowly folded the note and tucked it carefully into his jacket pocket. He looked up.

On the wall of photographs behind the Proprietor's desk, there was a new picture hanging: the Proprietor, Rose, and a man who strongly resembled his Eighth incarnation. The Doctor reached up, and took it off the wall. He traced their figures with his finger. Finally, he murmured, "Quite right, too..." He put the picture down.

He turned to the Proprietor. "Table for one."


End file.
